Shudder
by xxxbribriturnerxxx
Summary: Because what else are you supposed to do when death won't leave you alone. Add magic to the mix and you get one jacked up story. Welcome to my life. Harry Potter oc self-insert. Paring undecided.


**Shudder**

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**Chapter 1: In Which Death Comes To Play**

**Disclaimer:** In no way, shape or form do I own Harry Potter, or any other ideas that you recognize or you think you recognize. I own Liana, the plot and all other oc's in this story. If you sue, I just want to let you know you will be getting about five bucks a month since that is about all I make. If you don't HELL YEAH! Sit back and enjoy the story.

**Author's Note: **Yeah so, this is like my first fan-fiction. So I totally appreciate any kind of reviews. Even flames, you know what **bring it**. Bring all your hateful flames, cuz you wanna know why. I NEED IT, I need any kind of cut or burn you can lay on me because this story needs help and as awesome as you guys are I know you will help me. Oh yeah! Almost forgot, if there is anyone out there that can Beta for me please email me at bribriturner~at~yahoo~.~com I would really appreciate it.

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*_Ticktockticktockticktock*_

In the halls of St. Banards children hospital of New York, a clock ticks away in the emergency section. It was late at night, and outside it stormed covering the streets in sheets of water, showing no mercy to those out there. Thunder clashed with its bother lightning, illuminating the dreary hallways with shadows and monsters; it did nothing to cancel the dark feeling emancipating from its occupants. Occupants that should be asleep. Decorating the walls were paintings of children playing tag, and catch. One picture even held a little girl with blond pigtail's riding a unicorn over a rainbow.

**Febuary 22nd, 1984 Two people were found dead in an apartment along Park Ave.**

If one were to look further down the hall, past the playroom filled to the brim with still toys. Still in position from the activities from that day. Past the elevator still going up and down the floors, even at this time of night, and past the faculty lounge, where the smell of coffee was prominent. One would find two figures with anxiety and irritation leaking from their every pore.

**Maria Lopez; Age:26, time of death 2:30 p.m. Identity: Victim**

One man and one women loitered in the hallway of the hospital. From the glares and mutterings from the nurses and doctors alike, it was easy to tell they were not welcomed there. Yet no one approached them and told them to leave. In fact, it might have been the badges they had decorating their coats that helped a lot.

**Cause of death: Severe blow to the head, signs of struggle and forced entry.**

Private Investigator James Harold paced back and forth within the halls, his wet shoes rubbing painfully loud in the silent atmosphere. From the puddles surrounding him and his partner, it would be easy to assume that both of them were out in the rain for a while before they were allowed into the hospital. The woman was none other than Veronica Gates. She was a rather mousey women, with glasses that took up half of her face. Stringy blond hair was held up in a tight bun on her head, and her uniform was ironed to perfection. At a startling height of 5"1 she slouched further making her seem even smaller. She worriedly watched her partner as he paced back and forth, only finding comfort in twiddling her thumbs and trying not to see his worry.

**Marcise Shaw; Age: 32, time of death 2:35 p.m. Identity: Assailant**

The man in question wasn't much to look at. He was quite normal for someone of his occupation. His hair was a plain brown with streaks of gray slowly receding past his hairline, he was showing signs of balding. Some may even have said he was attractive with his roguish looks. Dull brown eyes decorated his face. Creme colored skin a little on the pale side from working majority in doors all day was painted over his skin. He wasn't tall but he wasn't short either, and he did nothing to notice his partners worry. Instead he chose to stalk from one end to the hallway to the other as if in a rage.

**Cause of death: Blood loss from stab wounds inflicted by an unknown weapon.**

Completely covered in what seemed to be clothing that shows him trying to make black look cool, he completed his cop image. In fact he went further and completed the image of an utterly boring man, who had one to many nights without sleep. Every now and then an annoyed sigh left his lips, and he constantly checked his watch, as if his gaze would make time pass by faster.

**Maria Lopez; Age: 4 Severe wounds to the face and brain trauma**

He was waiting for this moment since he first got the case. Every day for the past month, he had checked the doctor's rounds schedule. If his information was right Dr. Kuznetsov should be walking around this exact corner to go on his break in a while. With him waiting here there was no way he could ignore or avoid him this time. He was a detective after all.

**Identity: Survivor and ... Witness**

An extremely anxious detective.

"U-um, sir." A quiet voice streaked out, completely shattering his compulsive activity. The said man turned sharply around facing his female partner, his gaze hopeful for any useful information. His gaze in question bore into the small women's frame turning her into a stuttering mess. "W-w-well I-I um..." Veronica fought the urge to lower her head. Internally she debated herself, ashamed by her actions. She was a detective now goddammit, she needs to act like it as well. If she couldn't handle something as minor as speaking she would be shoved back on paper duty for sure.

These thoughts running through her head, she mustered up enough courage to square her shoulders and lift her head to meet his gaze without so much as a falter. She was hoping that he would notice her confidence and make a comment on it. "Perhaps we should ask the doctor if we can see her now." She frowned when he took no notice of her accomplishment, he only stopped as if he just realized she was there with him. He was beginning to worry her. The normally calm and composed man was freaking out as if he was some type of rookie. Usually she was the one doing that. It didn't fit James' character at all, and it was starting to affect her as well. If her abnormally sweaty palms were anything to go by.

"Good question." His voice boomed throughout the once silent hallway, his voice is laced with such anger she actually took a step at the volume. It looked as if he had forgotten where they were at the moment. Some of the nurses stationed nearby eyed the pair wearily as if debated whether to call security. As if noticing this he lowered his voice hoping to not give them an excuse to kick them out. "Can't though, the bastard is avoiding us." He lowered it enough for only the other women to hear, but you could clearly feel the venom dripping from it. "The humanoid probably thinks we'd disturb his precious little _patient_." He added the last part sarcastically.

Amused his partner pipes in her opinion on the matter. "Can't keep us away from the girl any longer." She snorts. "I mean, we gave the damn girl three weeks to recuperate and-."

"Yes," a heavily accented voice drones dryly out of nowhere. The two detectives in question jump as if they had seen the devil himself. Yet, given the situation he might as well been Lucifer himself. As if sensing their discomfort the voice continued on uncaring. "-and she vas unconscious for two of them." Turning around both James and Veronica both face the Russian man.

"Dr. Kuznetsov." James greeted without an ounce of enthusiasm.

The mans head is covered in thick blond hair that just screamed 'I need a hair cut'. His face is covered in blond stubble, and his eyes held that glazed yet awake look; as if he was pulling off a couple of nights without sleep with the help of a couple of gallons of coffee. He was a terrifying height of 6" leaning more on the 7" side. Ice cold blue eyes glared down at them, as if questioning why they even existed. In contrast to the choices pair of clothing coloring his jacket was a pristine white signifying his superiority over them as the doctor.

"Vhy are you here?" His voice carried out into the halls stopping everyone around them. Not liking the attention Veronica quickly starts to try to dissolve the situation. "T-the girl, um... w-we ju-just." Completely ignoring her he continues on. "The girl is not to be disturbed, if you wanted to visit you should have done so during visiting hours."

James growls, "The hospital kept us waiting out there for hours they wouldn't even-,"

"And for a good reason too." Ivan Kuznetsov smirks as if hearing some type of joke. "Such an outburst of emotions for such a petty thing shouldn't be allowed around the fragile mind of a child."

"Petty thing my fucking ass, we were waiting out there for **four** hours and-"

"**Is there a problem**." Ivan bites out glaring down at him. James looks around him as if suddenly realising that he had gotten in the doctors face. He took a step back quickly noticing their difference in height as well as build. If they were to get physical the odds would not be in his favour. Putting his hands up as if offering a peace treaty he began his defence.

"Look here doc, my boss-" Once again the man cut him off, not even bothering to listen to him. As if it pained him, he grit his teeth and choked out.

"Come vith me," he swiftly ordered and stalked off in the opposite direction. The pair scurried after the large man trying to keep up with his long strides. Getting lost in the twisting corridors of the hospital did not seem all so appealing, and at the rate he was going it seemed very likely to happen. Just when Veronica was about to verbally voice her complaint to the said doctor he suddenly stopped in front of a door. Both detectives had to brake out of nowhere to avoid slamming into his back.

Brushing invisible lint from his clothes James straitened up with a smug smirk on his face. "I assume this is where she is," James asked in a superior tone. Ivan rolled his eyes as if saying 'where else' but the detective continued anyways. "-and are you going to actually let us speak to her this time, without uh, certain... interruptions." The doctor only glared harder but made no move to remove his hulking frame from the door.

"Look here," his tone alone could have had a grown man pissing his pants. "Vhat ever you vant from her **don't **expect an answer, her mind is in a fragile state now due to shock." Detective Harold only tapped his foot harder as if to further portray his impatience. Sighing in defeat Ivan steps aside and once again James' haughty nature returns full on, as if he obtained some sort of victory.

Just when he is about to step into the room a hand snaps out efficiently halting his journey. The hand fists the front of his shirt wrinkling the once wrinkle free cotton dress shirt. Following the hand to its owner he see's the face of one pissed off doctor. He is pulled _upupup _into the scowling face of Ivan Kuznetsov.

"However," he seethed. "If I find one moment, you are making her uncomfortable, or if for any reason I find you a threat to her mental health..." He pulled him closer. "You will be removed, **PHYSICALLY **from the patient. Do I make myself clear?" Both detectives nod eagerly.

As if disgusted for touching the filth that he classified as the detective James is thrown into the room, his female counterpart following shortly after, both followed by the doctor that closes the door behind them. Dusting himself off, James stands up and turns around to face the bed not before giving the doctor a scowl, and it is the figure on it that captures his full attention. Sitting on the bed was Liana Isolina Lopez, with her face looking down. For a second he even thinks she is asleep, that was until her finger twitches and she looks up to face her guests.

* * *

'_She's a lot smaller than I thought she would be_,' were James' first thoughts from seeing her. If it wasn't her size that shocked him it sure as hell was her appearance. From her hispanic background you would expect her to have brown or hazel eyes but this surely wasn't the case. Silver, a single silver eyes stared at him with a dazed yet piercing gaze; almost as if she could see into his soul. Her hair was the most odd thing about her though yet it seemed to fit her. If one word could describe it, it would be wild. As in wild, he means **wild**. Her hair was the type of hair that looked gravity in the eye and says a big old **fuck you**. Curls bounded off in every direction in a black mess that could only be called a 'hot mess.' If her hair were longer it may have been called pretty, but now it was just a short bob that surrounded her rather large head.

The other half of her face is covered in what seemed to be bandages that lead all the way down to her throat, if he could call them bandages anyway. They looked more like bloody noodles, than something meant to ware off infection. Her nose looked the worse; purple and blue decorated it and it seemed to be held together by a cast. Quickly shaking off his shock he plasters a fake smile on his face and makes a move towards her bed only to be pushed aside by the seething doctor. Ivan hisses in disdain at the state of her bandages.

"Brat! _¿Qué le digo de elegir a su cara. Ahora en sus vendajes, todos sangrientos._" His voice snaps out like a whip onto the small frame of the four-year old girl. As if he had just said 'I love you give me a hug,' she held out her arms and started to scream out, "_Azul_, _Azul_!" He scowls, and she bursts into a round of giggles. Sighing he picks her up and sets her gently on the edge of the bed. He swiftly begin's to remove her bandages.

"S-she doesn't speak English?" Veronica questioned in worry. She really didn't want to have to rely on the doctor for translation. She didn't trust that the doctor wouldn't take advantage of their reliance on him to further humiliate them.

"No," came the gruff reply. Both cops freeze in worry. "She just does it to annoy people like you vho don't speak Spanish," he added on with a smirk. To go even further he ruffled her already messy hair, as if to say 'that's my girl,' the girl giggled once more, intent on completely ignoring the other two occupants of the room. The giggle soon turned into a hiss of pain as he continued peeling off her bandages.

"Dammit, _poco flor ahora tengo que volver a los puntos de sutura, se va a hacer daño, pero no me dan un duro tiempo delante de esos estúpidos ass personas bein_." He chided her like a father would and the detectives could only watch in cofusion as their conversation continued further in rapid Spanish.

"_Hola, Azul son los dos policías?_" She questioned eagerly.

"_No, son los investigadores_." He replied back in a bored tone.

Bouncing in a hyper manner she said, "_¿Cuál es la differencia entre ellos?"_ Both detectives were getting more and more confused by the moment, but they shudder when the doctor started to smile; it was something a little too innocent for their liking.

"_Los policías, son los grandes valientes muchachos que salen a luchar contra gente mala, estos chicos son el coño que vienen a 'investigar' las consecuencias." _He huffs in amusement. "_Si me preguntan que son más como los perros falderos de su jefe, que salen y presa de innocient personas._" To the amazement of the detectives the little girl hugs the doctor as if he were a teddy bear that needed a cuddle.

"_Está bien Azul, ya asustados la mierda de ellos, si lo intentan todo lo que seguro que castrar al hombre y decapitar las mujeres. Te quiero tanto que usted conoce._" Ivan laughs out loud, and ruffles her hair once again.

"If she can speak English," James interrupts annoyed. "However broken it may be she is required to speak it during the interrigation."

"The investigation has not started yet." Ivan snaps back not even turning to face the man. James takes a step towards him raising his fist only to be held back by his partner Veronica. Her pathetic attempt of holding him back wouldn't have actually done anything if he had actually wanted to do anything. In fact, one may compliment him for keeping up his fake smile the entire time. As if rewarding him Ivan continues their conversation in English.

"Good," he chirps. "I don't have to reapply the stitches, but I have to clean and re-bandage the wounds." He kneels down in front of her, and begins to unwrap her bandages. His huge frame covered her body entirely from the two detectives. All they could see was his arms moving in a rhythmic manner and his hands filling with bloody bandages before they are thrown in the waste basket. It seemed he was finished with the removing of the bandages because he leaned down towards his side in his bag and started rummaging through it for cleaning supplies, and fresh bandages. By doing so he gave both detectives a clear view of her face.

It was all Veronica could do to not gasp in shock. The entire right side of her face was covered in what seemed to be rows and rows of stitches that led all the way down to her neck. The skin those stitches held together was an angry red as if she scratched at it through the fabric of her bandages. The fact that they slowly oozed blood supported that hypothesis as well.

Scowling, the doctor started muttering darkly under his breath something that sounded suspiciously like 'stupid hallucinations, always giving the brat the most absurd ideas.' Out loud he actually said, "Who was it this time brat?" He swore the girl was going to give him grey hairs, with how much stress he was going through. The girl seemly uncaring just started swinging her legs back and forth on the table, almost kicking the doctor in the gut. Even if she did it is doubted that it would even hurt him. In an excited voice that only a four year old can muster she almost screams, "Dr. Arnold, it was Dr. Arnold!" Two slams echo throughout the hospital room.

One was the detective dropping his suit case on the floor, shocked at the perfect English the girl just blurted out of her mouth. The other was the doctor slamming his head on the desk at the side of her bed. Whoever this Dr. Arnold was it is easy to tell that Ivan did not like him... and judging from the dents worn into the material of the desk that this was a normal occurrence. Continuing the girl ignored their outbursts. "He-he told me that to keep out infa-infi..." Her words started to slur together in her attempt to get it all out at once.

"Infection," the irritated doctor replied his face still down on the table.

"Yeah!" She chirped almost too happily. "That; he told me I had to bleed my cuts to keep out infaction."

"Infection."

"Yeah, that's what I said!" She wined her voice grinding on the detectives ears. Ivan starts to scratch violently at his hair as if already imagining the dirty blond a shocking silver. "Listen," he begins. "That method of healing hasn't been used since the..." he pauses searching for an answer. "-nineteenth century, so you can tell this doctor 'Arnold' that you are anemic," finally with his gathered materials he takes out the disinfectant. "-and that your blood," he begins to gently dab her face. "-needs to stay INSIDE your body."

The girl tilts her head to the side as if listening to someone else. The doctor works on re-bandaging her face; the entire time careful not to make contact with any part of her skin. She starts to nod and mutter under her breath as if having an one sided conversation with the air. Haughtily she replies, "He can hear you Azul, he says that he was a doctor before your grandfather was born so you should," her voice changes like she was mimicking someone much older with a gravely voice. "-leave HIS patient alone."

Finished with her face the doctor starts to wrap her neck at an annoyed rate. "Well, you can tell him that it is the TWENTIETH century, and that he should leave MY patient alone." He finished with her neck and went on the check if her nose needed any attention. "-before I shove MY clipboard up his imaginary-"

"Doctor!" Detective Veronica shrieked out horrified. She felt that he shouldn't be using that language around anyone, much less Liana. If only she could speak Spanish, she would have heard that nonsense that the poured out of the girls lips earlier, and she would have known it wouldn't have mattered what the doctor said around her. James however, is worried for a totally different reason.

"Who exactly is this Dr. Arnold, and could we speak with him since he is clearly not-" he began but was cut off once again by the doctor leaking out a malevolent aura.

"What!" He snarled baring his teeth at them. "Authorized, was that what you were going to say, huh." James stuttered out a reply not knowing what caused him to face the wrath of the doctor, and he wasn't even done yet. "Clearly it is you two that are not authorized for this job."

"E-excuse me-" Veronica stuttered out offended. "A FUCKING HALLUCINATION." Ivan screamed out, as if daring them to interrupt him again. "It's a hallucination, and if you and your, excuse me," he laughs " _authorized _selves were actually listening to the briefing held earlier in the week, you would know she has been having them since she was two." He continued to mutter under his breath in angry Russian stuffing all of his materials into his bag. "Clearly she is not fit for this interrogation. This type of stimulation could be counterproductive to her mental health as it can in turn affect her physical an-" His rant was cut off by James' cold voice.

"Doctor," he rudely tapped his watch. "Don't you have other patients to attend to?" Growling, the doctor gave one last look of warning to the pair before storming to the door. At the last moment he pivoted around, and glared straight at them both. "For the record she's an Aphenphosmphobic so don't touch her, **also **something that you should have known from the briefing." He turned around, "I may be required by the law to allow this interrogation but," he pauses and you can practically hear the laughter in his voice. "If we meet on the street," he opens the door. "I'll beat the shit out of you."

**SLAM**

They were alone with the girl, and somehow even after all the trouble they went through it didn't seem as appealing as it was ten minutes ago.

* * *

With the fake smile surprisingly still on his face James Harold walks over to the bedroom door and seeing how it had no lock propped one of the many chairs in the room against it. He looks at his partner Veronica Gates who stood next to the shelve tinkering with many of the glass picture frames that stood there. She is supposed to sit this one out and use it as a learning experience. Making sure she was at least paying attention he slowly walked over to the bed of the little girl; making sure his footfalls were loud and dragged out.

_'Intimidation Method' _thought Veronica. '_He wants her to know right away that he is in charge.'_

Reaching the bed he see's that Liana took it upon herself to sit cross legged on the fluffy white sheets, their sheer size almost swallowing her whole. She doesn't shrink back at the detectives display of authority. In fact she challenged it by sitting up taller and plastering a fake smile of her own on her face, which quickly turned into a frown when she noticed him getting closer than what was necessary. He however, carried on ignoring the frown she was giving him. He got up to her bed and leaned heavily on it causing it to dip down. Once again making her form smaller.

"That's very pretty hair you have, Liana can you tell me what color it is?" He asked very slowly as if it would make it easier for her to understand. The girl in question just picked up a book from under her pillow and started to absentmindedly read, not even bothered by how close they were. She just replied in a dry tone, "I'm four not two." Deciding to pick another topic to engage in he blurts out something else. "What are you reading?"

"Grapes of Wrath."

Silence...

"I-it said on your profile that you were a little smart for your age. Who would have thought you would like this stuff." James was baffled, the only time he had read that book was in high school for his world history class. Even then the book was confusing as hell, and he had to reread sentences twice just to understand it. This girl wasn't just 'a little smart for her age' she is a freaking child prodigy. From her testing too it showed she had some type of photographic memory when it comes to things she has seen or heard. This interrogation would be a lot harder now that he know the girl wasn't just some blabbering kid. Even worse, the doctor seemed to be hiding something. He said the girl was Aphenphosmphobic, yet when he touched her hair she showed no reaction.

'_Now why wouldn't he want me to touch her'_ James sighed deep in thought. '_There's more to this case that meets the eye, and I need to figure out what.'_

"_El Arriba usted hombre puta."_ Her voice snaps him out of his daze, and he realized he was inches from the girls face. She stared up at him unblinking and made no move to back up as if she expected him to do so. Slowly he backs up saying no apology except, "This interrogation must be spoken in English; we don't want any misunderstandings do we." The fact that she isn't crying and shaking shows she did not have Aphenphosmphobia. There was one question answered. The other one was about her hectic mood swings. It may have been that she enjoyed the doctors presence; but even then it was a serious shift from the girl then to the girl now. If his sources were correct, she wasn't bipolar. It could be a split personality disorder; she did have brain damage after all.

_'Or, she's trying to intimidate me.'_ James frowned he was getting more questions than answers.

"But seriously," he pretended to be gushing. "Your hair is just spectacular." Self-consciously she touched her hair and began to pull it down as if embarrassed. '_Bingo'_ James thought. He had found her weak spot. "It's so curly and black, my gosh it almost looks blue," her skin pretty pale for her ethnicity (mixed perhaps? Probably half Caucasian) filled with blood around her cheeks. She is sensitive to comments about her appearance. Deciding to take it further he makes a comment about her eyes. Hoping in the process he would win them over. In the corner of the room his partner gushed in amazement at how he handled the situation.

"Oh! Look at your beautiful eyes, you'll have to beat the guys back with a stick when your older." It was going as planned. With the injury to her face, her self-esteem should be low therefore she should be more open to flattery. It looked like it was working with the way she was fiddling with the pages of her book, not even bothering to read anymore. _'Just a little more'_ "They're the most lovely shade of silver, I'd say-"

"**Grey**," her voice streaked out of nowhere. The blush on her cheeks is gone, and her fingers go bag to their normal activity of flipping the pages of her book.

"Ex-excuse me." James bit out startled by her change in demeanor. He had almost had her snared but she broke out of it as if it were nothing. She continues on feeding off of his shock. "Grey, hmmm; hint of murky green; petty, jealous, cocky attitude, overly high self-esteem, victim of the world, yep!" She giggles and continues to giggle even as she says, "That would be yours, wouldn't it? It really suits your hair color by the way hahaha-oh!" She stops and stares off into space nodding her head as if someone is talking to her. Her eyes snap up, this time directed at his female partner.

"PINK!" She shouts out. "Love, lust, hmm, grey; blocking of emotions. Unresponsive love perhaps?" She starts to giggle again as if they had told her the best joke in the world. "Bad cop, bad cop, can't you see he's married? Oh!" She screams out looking in the direction of the empty chair at her bed side. "Welcome, welcome, join us don't be shy 'kay!" She adds on cheerfully. Swerving her head back up at Veronica she gasps and points. "Black now ahhhh! Look, look Dr. Arnold I made the pretty cop mad!" James shaking off his shock leans forward about to question her insane rambling when he was interrupted by the sound of glass shattering behind him.

He swivels around only to see his shaking partner. The picture frame she was fiddling with now lay shattered on the floor; showing the occupants of the room a brown eyed golden skinned women that could only be the girls mother based on the fact that her hair was as wild and uncontrollable as the girl giggling next to him. He frowns at the mess, and looks up for an explanation only to see her running towards the door. Her shaking hands trying to get a good grip on the chair blocking it. Giving up on calmly grasping it she picks it up and throws it across the room. The wood smashing against the opposite wall. All while this happened Liana sat calmly on her bed talking to the empty chair next to her. "Did you see that, yeah I know! Such an overreaction... haha good one." James however was quite the opposite.

"Detective Gate, what the HELL is up with you?" He was shaken by the girls crazy rambling but he didn't see why it warranted this type of reaction. The women is question was an internal mess. She felt that she wasn't cut out for the work for a detective if she had to deal with little **demons **like this girl. "DETECTIVE GATES!" James angry voice reaches her ears. "EXPLANATION, NOW!" Tears run down her cheek as she sobs.

"L-lair!" she screams at Liana. In a much lower tone she whispers as if trying to convince herself the words she was saying. "That girl is a liar." She tears open the door and starts to leave.

"Veronica what-"

**SLAM**

For the second time that night the door slammed. Now however, James is left alone with the girl. His partner was gone. All he could hear was the _clickclickclick _of her heels speed walking away. "Awww," a voice wined to his right and he snapped around fast, now wearily eyeing the girl currently sitting on the bed. Her childish personality was completely gone. All that was left was a shit eating grin that said it all.

'_This little fucker!'_ James thought inwardly. '_She was playing us this entire time!' _Outwardly he let none of his shock show. Even he had to admit the damn girl was good. She lead him along making him think his compliments were getting him somewhere before dropping the A-bomb on them and forcing a FULL GROWN women out of the room in tears. Never in his life had he'd seen such a feat.

"You know," he began. "You will make one hell of an actress one day the way you played me then." His only response from her was a toothy grin. Then the smile slips from her face. Her single silver eye bore into his brown ones. "Charlie doesn't like you." She said her tone dead as if she was repeating something she heard. Charlie? Must have been another one of her imaginary friends. "Tell Charlie I don't like him either." He snapped back in what he hoped was his _'cutitout'_ tone. He is irritated. For weeks his boss has been giving him hell over this case. The only witness was this four year old BRAT that seemed to think everything was some sort of mind fuck game. If he wasn't interrogating the girl, and if she were older he would be recruiting her; she has raw talent. But she wasn't and he isn't and he wants answers. He wants them NOW.

Walking towards the chair at the side of the bed he goes to sit down. "Diana is sitting there." Her voice rings out halting him. He scowls and decides to stand up. "Look here kid three weeks ago-" He was interrupted by the sound of some sort of commotion going on outside in the hallways. Using this as an invitation to introduce her friend she starts talking before he could. "Diana is twelve, she just got here a moment ago."

"Yeah that's ni-" She interrupts him once again. "She just got here, her daddy was drunk and crashed the car."

Not hearing the last part of her statement he looses his patience. "Look kid I need you to tell me all you know about what happened the night your apartment was broken into." She stares at him blankly and replies, "I don't remember," and snaps her book shut.

"Don't play with me!" He screamed his arm swoops out and another frame is shattered onto the floor. The air next to the bed turns a few degrees colder, the girls eyes stare blankly at the mess. "If you wanted you could recite this whole book to me word for word. Now!" He calms down once more. "Tell me what you remember."

She narrows her eyes at him before talking. "I remember waking up one day to someone banging on the door. Next thing I know the frame is busted in and some guy walks in the house screaming."

_"Where's my money, where's my money you bitch?"_

She winces as if it hurts to remember. "What did he want with your mother?" James questions.

"My mother errr, entertains men..." James felt heat rise up to his cheeks. "I remember seeing the man around a lot before, he was a what do you call it... pimp! Yeah pimp."

"Then."

"Then he grabs my mom, and starts to shake her, she screams for me to run."

_"Liana! R-run, go get help! Run, NOW!"_

"I just sat there frozen then I saw he was hurting her so I ran at him trying to get him off of her."

_"Get off of her!"_

"He grabbed something, I think it was a vase and smashed it into my face then- nothing." She finished.

"That's it!" James replied. "Do you remember anything else?" Her story wasn't making sense. It only mentioned the injury to her face not even drifting to the one on her neck. With his view of it earlier it looked identical to the ones on the man's body. So it had to have been the same weapon. The question is what weapon. The wounds appear to be inflicted by a blade yet the edges of the skin was black as if burned. She has to remember something else.

"No." She did, she is lying.

_Rage._

"Are you sure?" "Pretty sure," she said back a little too quickly.

_Rageragerage! Get off of her! Get off of her right now! I'll kill you! I'll fucking kill you!_

The lights in the room started to flicker. She leaned back the fabric over her chest dropping low. "Aren't you a little too young for a tattoo?" The suspicious voice of James asks. Decorated across her chest was some sort of black cross; decorated with a bunch of swirls and designs. She covers it up with her hand and bites out, "I think you should leave." Her tone was dark, and her eyes turned a stormy grey.

'_This girl is defiantly hiding something, I need to get some more answers before I can make a conjecture.'_

"I still have some-" James only had time to look up before he was thrown across the room onto the pile of glass. Liana is still laying down , she didn't move an inch. "I told you," she whispered turning to face him. Her eyes were red. "That Charlie doesn't like you." The remaining pictures next to him on the shelve started to shatter and he scampered out of the room by crawling on the floor leaving a trail of blood in his wake. The last thing he saw of the room was her sitting on the bed; red eyes glaring at him before some force slammed the door shut.

His breath was labored as he fought to calm his beating heart.

"Ah, Detective James." A voice calls out behind him. He jumps turning around to see Ivan smiling down at him cruelly. "I trust your chat with Liana went well." He started advancing towards him dragging his feet on the floor. Scampering up James stands up and begins to back away; glass implanted in his hand. "You see," Ivan continues to move forward. "I would have loved to join you, but we had an emergency arrival. Some drunk got into a car accident, he's still alive..." James begins to shake. "-but I'm afraid his daughter... Daniel I believe died on impact. Poor girl, so young too."

"**MONSTER**!" James shrieks. "That girl is a fucking monster. Your all fucking monsters! Let me out of here; you all are fucking crazy!" He runs down the hall and out of sight. Ivan sighs mushing his face with his hand. "That girl... really."

He walks in the room to see her playing patty cake with thin air. "She's here right?" Ivan asks her walking up to her bed stepping over the glass, she nods. He press's the button for the intercom and speaks out "Clean up in room 40C, clean up in room 40C." He kneels down in front of her once again and breaks out into fits of laughter. "They vont be bothering us again vill they?"

"Nope!" Was her cheerful reply. She had moved onto Miss Marymac. "He wouldn't want it to go out there that he got scared by a little girl, plus," she smirks her giggles gone along with her other act. "They wouldn't believe him anyway."

"Okay, let me see her." He held out his hand waiting. Her pale hand reached out connecting with his and what felt like a stream of cold water passed through his body, and he shivered from the change in temperature. Ivan chokes out. "Damn, even after all this time I'm still not used to this."

Looking around, he sees a total of three other people in the room, till his is distracted by an electric buzz sounding in his ear. Looking to its source his eyes look at his skin. Around his hand a blue haze sticks to him like a second skin, shifting and changing into no definate shape. In the corner of the room a seventy year old man stood, hair a striking silver his wrinkled face was curved into a snarky smile. Following his vision down Ivan sees his white coat stained in blood.

Dr. Arnold.

Standing right next to him was a scowling teen and where his neck was supposed to be a gapping hole of flesh and bone stood out. He was covered in a farmers suit and his black hair clashed painfully with his blue eyes. His red eyes glared down at him the rest of the eye a startling black, he glared right back.

Charlie.

And sitting on the chair next to her bed currently playing a game of numbers was a twelve year old girl her hair held high in pigtails that curved in unnaturally. Her head was crushed in and blood stained her blond pigtails.

Daniel.

Their eyes all matching each others turned to face Ivan. Quite used to this Ivan just stared blankly back, after a minute his eyes trailed down.

On all of their chests a single black cross was visible.

* * *

"Do I have to go?" A voice echos out in room 40C. Inside the room, the bed was stripped bare and a little girl was sitting on top of a packed suitcase. She was pouting and had her arms crossed over her chest in defiance. If you would look closer you would see she was holding back tears. She refused to let them fall even as her new friend Daniel sobbed her eyes out. Unfolding her arms the girl awkwardly pats her back unsure of how to comfort her. Dr. Arnold had passed on the day before and she just wouldn't stop crying. It was really starting to annoy Charlie.

"The orphanage already has all of your other stuff;" a gruff voice replies, upset at the girls lack of common sense. "Plus you can't stay in the hospital forever your wounds are healed." The man who had become her father during her month long stay quickly picked her up and set her down gently on her feet. Even if he would never admit it the Russian man didn't want to see her go either.

"What if the other kids make fun of my face." She questioned in worry. She was now sporting some gruesome scars on her face and her hair wasn't long enough to cover them completely yet. At least with the one on her throat she covered it with a silk black scarf that Ivan had given her before. He had worn it as a child as well.

"Just tell them you got in a fight with a bear," you can practically hear the laughter in his voice. In the corner Charlie stiffened, and turned his full out glare on Ivan. Ignoring him Ivan continues "Isn't that how Mr. Glaresalot went out." Charlies glare deepened and he debated whether on not to throw him across the room. "Ha! If you tell them that they vill surely leave you alone." Ivan chuckles at his own joke. Charlie who was standing right beside instead of lashing out like he usually would went into the corner to brood. She still was scared. What if they found out about her mark, or even about her gift. The possibilities of what could go wrong is endless, and it made her so worried.

"Why can't you just adopt me?" Her voice took a hopeful hint to it and she even enlarged her eyes as an added affect.

Ivan growls. "You know why." Realising he wasn't making the situation better he adds on before she really did start to cry. "You'll like it, really." She looks at him the shimmer in her silvery eyes growing by the second. "The orphanage is relligous, Catholic to be exact." He walks across the room and takes her luggage and places it in front of the door. Turning back around he sees she is still in the same spot. She looks down at her feet and finally not taking it anymore runs into his arms almost knocking them both down. He crouches down so she is not positioned uncomferabally. Her face is buried in his chest and he realizes the reason why a moment later who he feels a growing wetness. One thing he learned about her in this short amount of time is that she never liked anyone to see her cry.

"Promise me," she chokes out, her voice muffled by his shirt. "That I can visit you,"

"Look, I have a really busy work schedule-" Ivan began.

"During your lunch break, at midnight, ANY time please... please, just promise me." You could hear the girls increasing urgency.

"I promise." Came the ruggish reply and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer.

* * *

In the state of New York, you will see the borough of Manhattan. In Manhattan many buildings decorate the city. Some of these buildings are orphanages. In one of the many orphanages you can see one, on the outside it could be mistaken for a church. On the inside it could be mistaken as a jail house. If one were to listen closely, or even just randomly stop in front to marvel its beauty, one may hear past the sounds of girls eating lunch, past the teachers preparing their lectures, and past the ticking of the giant grandfather clock; two sets of footfalls pounding against the stone floors.

"This is your room." The older woman's voice washes over her. Her whole appearance just screamed strict. She wore a grey dress that reached the tips of her black boots. Her graying hair pinned up not a strand out of place. Lines covered her face and from the scowl she was sending at her baggy clothing you could tell they were not from smiling. The woman (who she will later learn is called Sister Anabel) continued to speak (probably some cross remarks about her clothing) but she doesn't hear her. All she sees is the tiny closet that she is supposed to live in for the next fourteen years of her life. Room her scrawny ass, it looked more like a jail cell to her.

The bed you could not even call a bed. The mattress didn't look the least bit comfortable, it was lumpy and the sheets that decorated them looked thin and flimsy, and are the putrid color of brown. The walls were concrete and remained bare of any type of individualism except for the cross hanging on it over the bed. There was one window and Liana could easily say it is the most beautiful thing in the room. It starts out as a rectangular shape at the bottom then it curves up into one point; making it look like an awkward triangle. What really caught her attention was the glass itself. Multiple pieces of multi-colored glass went together to form a picture of a cross. Her cross. Reds, blues, green, any color really shined in the room as the sunlight streaked in, lighting up the plain room with amazing colors. She continued to stare mesmerized at the cross in the center. If she squinted more she could swear she felt a buzz emitting from it almost like... magic.

"Treat it well and with respect." Sister Anabel's voice snaps her out of her trance, and she blinks as if she just remembered that the middle aged women is still there. "Your mattress and blankets were supplied by the NYPD investigation unit, courtesy of Detective James Harold; be sure to pay your thanks later." Ah, Detective Harold, that explains the shabby supplies. The man probably used this petty thing as some sort of revenge. Well, she couldn't say she didn't deserve it; she did after all get him thrown out of her room with his hands full of glass. The man was probably mortified. At least he grew enough balls to do this, though she will have to send Charlie out to give him a visit soon. The young-adult has quite a grudge against him and would love any chance he would get to beat the living crap out of the man.

It took Liana a while to realize that the woman is still talking and she didn't want to miss anything that the woman had to say. Anything she said would probably be beneficial to her stay, and it would be easier on both of them if she is situated comfortably. "I'm sorry," Liana begins a little guilt laced in with her voice. She couldn't help it, she drifted off more and more now, easily getting lost in her thoughts; it was to be expected however she did get extensive damage to her brain after all. She is actually surprised that there wasn't even more damage than this. Her mother's vase was an antique and was pretty heavy. Maria had brought it from China when... she is doing it again.

This time the apology clearly heard in her voice she says "Could you please repeat what you just said please." Liana tries to keep her voice as polite as possible, any slang that usually goes with it is gone, she knows if she wants to live here comfortably then she has to stay on this woman's good side. Her mother was the orphanages owner after all. The old bat was more like a demon in her long dress and walking stick that Liana knows she hits the girls with; if the dents on them were anything to go by. However, the way the woman's frown deepened from the revelation that she had to repeat herself Liana could tell she ruined any chances at getting along with Sister Anabel. She really seemed like the '_getonmynervesonceandyourdeadtome'_ type of woman.

"As I was saying before you decided to-" she hisses. '_Yep she so hates me' _thought Liana. "-grace me with your precious attention. Your clothing is to be kept in the bins under your bed. Your shoes are to be lined up at the front of the bed. You will be given five pairs of the uniform-"

'_What the hell! Uniform; man this really is jail.' _The woman snaps her fingers in front of the girls face to gain her attention back, rewarding Liana with a glare for once again zoning out.

"-**and**," her voice is firm and promises a very painful death if she is ignored again, intentionally or not. "You are to hand wash them and mend them yourself; if you do not know how one of the older girls will be happy to teach you." Out of the box Liana just noticed her carrying. '_I really need to pay more attention to my surroundings' _She pulls out the longest skirt Liana has ever seen, along with a white dress shirt. Ugly overly large brown boots follow along with undergarments followed soon after. Multiple pairs of these were soon placed on the girls bed and she just stared at them blankly. The woman reached back into the box and pulled out a bible.

"Every Sunday you are to wake up at five-thirty, and be in the chapel by eight, absolutely **no **tardiness allowed." She turned around and began walking down the hall. She stopped suddenly as if she remembered something. Reaching into the pocket of her dress she pulls out a small object. "They recovered this from your mothers body, they thought you might as well have it." It is thrown across the hall to her and a flash of silver is all she sees before it lands in her outstretched palm. A cool feeling that could only be described as metal pressed against her skin. Uncurling her fist she comes face to face with the thing her mother never took off.

It is her mothers necklace.

A thick silver chain decorated in black pearls weigh heavily in her hand. Following the chain down a cross the size of her middle finger lays. Swirls and tiny black gems cover the surface. In the center one large red diamond stood in the center. Tracing her hands over and over again over the front and she moves on to the back. Flipping it over a single word is engraved on the back.

Victoria. She reads it again.

Victoria. And again.

Victoria. Again.

_Victoriavictoriavictoria_

Over and over she reads it muttering the word again and again under her breath. She didn't notice Sister Anabel walking away. She didn't notice her body moving inside of her new room. She didn't even notice the words becoming so blurred she couldn't even read it anymore. All she could notice it the memories the word resurfaced.

'_I was in labor for twelve hours with you' _She finally realized she is crying and tries desperately to wipe the tears away. It didn't work.

'_When you were finally born you were so tiny, I didn't even want to touch you in fear of breaking you.' _She curls up in a ball not even bothering to go to the bed. Instead she settled for the floor. Daniel goes to comfort her but is stopped by Charlie who is shaking his head no.

"Nonononononono," is whispered repeatedly under her breath as her attempts to stop the tears are failure.

'_I held you in my arms and I kept shouting "Victoria, Victoria!" The doctors thought I was going crazy.' _She begins to rock back and forth. Liana didn't want to cry for her mothers death. All the time in the hospital proved as a great distraction, but now she couldn't avoid it; she wanted her mother.

_'You were and will forever be my victory.' _A sob wracks through her body that she couldn't choke back. If she didn't stop it would be like accepting the fact that her _beautiful_ mother is gone; that she is_ deaddeaddead. _Her body shudders and she can feel her walls breaking.

'_I wear this necklace to show my love for you, that as long as I wear this my love will never fade, even with death.' _She clamps her hands over her ears trying to stop her mothers voice from leaking through.

_My love will never fade._

Victoria.

_My love will never fade._

Victoria.

_My love..._

Victoria.

_As long as I wear this necklace._

Victoria.

_Even with death..._

Victoria.

_With death..._

Victoria.

_Death..._

Victoria.

_Death..._

Victoria.

_Death!_

Victoria.

_DEATH! _

Victoria.

**_DEATH!_**

'_You are -'_

**Stop!**

_'My-'_

**Stopstopstop!**

**_'Victory'_**

In the state of New York, you will see the borough of Manhattan. In Manhattan many buildings decorate the city. Some of these buildings are orphanages. In one of the many orphanages you can see one, on the outside it could be mistaken for a church. On the inside it could be mistaken as a jail house. If one were to listen closely, or even just randomly stop in front to marvel its beauty, one may hear...

The screams of a little girl who plays with death.

* * *

"One of the kids touched me during language class today." A quiet voice spoke out against the chatter of the restaurant around the pair. Two people sat in the corner of in one of the secluded tables. Or about as secluded as a table can get in McDonald's. One may find the sight beheld there hysterical. A man with shaggy dirty blond hair, and a couple days worth of stubble decorating his chin. A white coat is draped over his soldiers. He was hunched over in the tiny chair. His frame much too large, and it seemed to swallow up the whole chair. Every now and then the chair groaned as if it couldn't support all of his weight.

Across from his sat a little girl of five years. Her birthday had passed with valentines day and she sat with her back painfully straight, and her ankles crossed. Her whole positioning looked so forced one could tell many hours of pounding it into her body had enforced it. A long black skirt much to large for her thin body reached her ankles covered the lower part of her body. Only the tips of giant brown boots are showing. A white dress shirt covered the top and a necklace rested on top of it. Her hair now reaching just below her shoulders was pinned up painfully tight a few rebellious midnight curls sticking out here and there. Her face was the most hilarious part of her frame. It was so confusing some people just has to stop and stare. Her eyes just screamed '_I'llcutoffyourdickwitharustyspoon'_ and her left eye twitched furiously. They were a stormy grey something that only happens when she is seriously pissed. Her smile is the worst part. It looks like she trying to put some attempt to make it pleasant but the was it curved up into a sneer ruined that attempt.

Basically, they were the oddest pair to grace this McDonald's, but they came everyday for the past year, and sat at that same exact table at the same exact time every day of the week except on Sundays. They both had church on Sundays. Ignoring some of the stares they are getting Liana continued her rant. Her posture getting stiffer and stiffer with her anger.

"She was getting mad that I was catching on to French faster than her." The girl scoffed as if she thought it is obvious that she would. Being able to easily memorize whatever she is taught. She doesn't even know why they are teaching them french when they are in kindergarten. It probably has something to do with the whole '_We get money if you girls look smart' _thing anyway. Fucking government and their fucking money loans. They made the teachers that visited the orphanage push the her until her brain started to hurt. It caused tensions between the other girls when competing for attention. The fact that Liana excelled in educational means didn't help her make any friends either. They were much too childish for her. This actually caused the incident today.

One of the girls, Amy if she remembers correctly (she does) in a jealous rage went to pull her hair but her hand missed instead hitting the one patch of skin that was kept uncovered. The base of her neck. The girl started screaming the moment she came into contact, and Liana's eyes changed to red from the drainage sudden drainage of her energy. She understood why the girl screamed; coming face to face with Charlie wasn't a fun experience, especially for those with a weak stomach...

But the girl seriously have to go screaming 'demon, demon' over and over again like a fucking banshee?

Sister Anabel had taken one look at Liana's eyes before dragging her down to the basement _by her hair_ she might add, and to the kitchens where she threw her in the cabinet under the sink. She was locked in there for HOURS before she was taken out and forced to mend all the girls uniforms. By the way getting stabbed with a needle repeatedly hurts, a lot. It may have something to do with the fact that she is FIVE YEARS OLD and shouldn't be trusted around sharp objects; but does Sister Anabel acknowledge that, _nooooooooo _she wants to be a stupid **bitch** and get her mother involved as well. Sister Elizabeth, or as some of the older kids called her the Bloody Phantom, had doused Liana in so much holy water her hair is still wet. She barely had time to sneak out to meet Ivan. He was going to give her his medical textbooks today so she can start studying to become a doctor.

"I hate it there." She seethed. "I wish I could leave."

"I know." Replied Ivan.

* * *

"What happened this time?" Sighed Ivan. The people of the restaurant were now used to the pair and their table is now avoided in the fear of the Russian doctors rage. Those who were new to the area were quickly hushed when they make comments on them. This time the girl sat her nose bloody as she ate her McChicken. She furiously stuffed her face as she ate, ignoring the iron scent that wouldn't leave her hands no matter how many times she washed them with the cheep soap at the orphanage. She moved on to her french fries before replying.

"She called my mother easy." Ivan sighed and ran his hands through his graying hair. He was getting a little too old for this shit. He was happy that Liana is starting to act like her old self again, but he completely forgot how her fierce '_don'tfuckwithme'_ personality seems to clash painfully with others. Especially that brainwashing orphanage that thought being a lady is wearing concealing clothing and being submissive. Both him and Liana were raised by their mothers alone, so their image of women were a little different. Women were supposed to be strong and independent, not weak and dainty. It was one of the main reasons Ivan hated the orphanage, sooo much. But none of it compared to the fierce hatred Liana looked at it. No one annoyed her as much as Sister Elizabeth and her daughter Sister Anabel. She couldn't even show her hatred for them outwardly because her mother taught her no matter what to always respect her elders.

Freak you guilty conscious, freak you.

Snapping her out of her rant Ivan asked her, "Did you win?"

"Bashed her stupid prissy little face in."

"Good."

She failed to mention she was forced to scrub all the toilets in the entire orphanage.

* * *

"I hate my life," came the muffled response of Liana with her head facing down on the table. Her hair was growing longer so more pins were stabbed into it attempting to tame the curly mess. The only thing Ivan noticed was her paler than normal skin and the dark purple bags that hang from under them.

'_She's getting nightmares again' _Ivan thought. He is frustrated, she's a little too young for pills; and the girls metabolism is crazy. During her short stay in the hospital she baffled the nurses and doctors at how much she could fit into her small tummy. Ivan snorts, '_More like a bottomless pit.' _The girl must be starving in the orphanage with those little portions they call servings.

"How come?" Asked Ivan, he is trying to keep his laughter in at the sleep deprived girls expression. She looked like she wanted to kill someone, based on the way she stabbed her sandwich with her plastic fork.

"Sister Elizabeth, thought that I needed some extracurricular activities so she had me polish **all **of the girls boots." She sighed and her voice turned whiny.** "**I'll never look at some of these girls the same again without remembering that fucking **stench**!" She started mumbling something about dying fish and Amy Thomson under her breath.

"Did you have fun?" Ivan replied, his gaze full of laughter.

Liana looks down in deep in thought before answering. "Yep! You should have seen what I put in some of their shoes!"

* * *

"There getting worse you know." Her voice was tired and her eyes bloodshot. Sleep is not coming peacefully to her anymore. Her entire form just looks like it could knock out for twenty-four hours and can keep going.

"What are they about?"

"My Mom."

"How much sleep did you get last night?"

"Two hours."

"That's bad... you should really see a doctor for this."

...

"Your an asshole."

* * *

Today Ivan looked up surprised to see Liana hurriedly run in her eyes wide in excitement. In her hand she clutches stacks of papers that can only be her homework. She throws them on the table messily and pants as if she ran the entire walk there.

"I need your advice." She gasps out.

"Well hello to you too." Was Ivan's curt reply. He is a toughie on manners.

Less excited than before she squeaks out, "Yeah, yeah, hello- I really need your advice." Her excitement is once again fully active.

Sighing Ivan huffs out, "What do you need brat." She glares at the last part but still continues.

"We have a new assignment for Writing class!"

"..."

"Aren't you going to ask me what it is?"

She is met with his signature glare, but she takes that as an invitation to continue.

"We have to write letters to other orphans like us, if we choose to accept we get to write them ALL WE WANT!"

"How does this concern me?" Irritatingly his sarcastic voice sounded. She chooses to ignore this as well.

"W-well your the most important person in my life."

His stiff back slackens.

"And I... I really want a friend."

His glare softens, and he says softly, "I'm your friend aren't I."

"YOU don't count, YOU'RE old, your more like-"

"I'm not THAT old _bitch_."

"A father or something."

"..." She's met with silence.

"I-I just," She pauses unsure on how to continue. "Should I do it?"

"..."

"That's not up to me brat."

* * *

"Your still going to ignore my question."

"..."

"I don't know what to do! I don't know if the person will like me!"

"..."

"Where's your supportive words now," she snorts wetly. "What no bear attack?"

*silence*

"Fine then, I'll just ask Charlie. Do you want that?!"

Ivan's grip tightens on his tray.

"You know what!" Liana gets up angry tears streaming down her face. "You know what I think!"

She gets up, "Your more like my dad than you think." She runs out of the restaurant.

Ivan's food remains untouched.

* * *

The next day the seat next to Ivan is empty.

* * *

Nothing...

* * *

Nada...

* * *

"You know I accepted right."

Ivan looks up, his appearance even more ruffled than usual. His hair is almost completely silver now. Their eyes are a matching bloodshot now. Liana shifts on her feet. Her posture stiff and rigid compared to the calm and relaxed one she usually has around him.

"I-I got the letter this morning, and I already sent out my reply" She adds on weakly. "I get what you wanted me to do." She contiues her words rushing together and her throat constricting as she begins to rant.

"I wanted you to be the first that I share it with, I didn't even let Sister Elizabeth read it! _I swear!" _Tears run down her face as she gets hysterical. "I thought that if I wrote the letter than I could replace you, but I couldn't _I just felt so empty. Then I had to wait for the letter, and it just felt so **wrong** talking to some sheet of paper like I'm some nut job-"_

"Kid."

_"I got so scared thinking you weren't gonna talk to me again. And I realized all you wanted me to do was start making decisions for myself and stop relying on you all the time and-"_

"Kid."

_"I am soooo sorry, for treating you like shit, and comparing you to my father because we both know how much of an insult that is. I just want to be with you again and hear your voice again because I already lost mom and-"_

"Liana."

_"I don't want to loose you too because-"_

"Liana!"

_"I was really stupid, and it would be **all my fault** again!"_

"**Liana**!"

_"I just- I just..." _She sobbed no even bothering to stop the snot coming out of her nose. Ivan opens up his arms, and said two words that shatter all resistance between them.

"Come here."

_"I love you so much!" _ She screams before jumping into his arms. He strokes her back trying to quiet her sobbing. She was ruining his coat.

He didn't care.

* * *

Ivan Kuznetsov, is a man to be feared. He rules the children's hospital with an iron fist, people respect him on sight, and people fear to be on the other side of his wrath. So if anybody asks, he **is not** crying...

He just got hair in both his eyes simultaneously, and he suffered some sort of allergic reaction to his burger that causes his throat to swell.

Yeah... that's it.

Pulling the sniffling girl off of him he ruffles her hair; a few bobby pins drop to the floor. The people who were watching quickly look away, trying to play it like they weren't watching the entire thing. "Hey brat," he begins wiping snot off his coat with a greasy napkin. "You know I don't like this pussy crying shit." He wipes at her eyes as she starts to laugh. "Stop those tears; if anyone finds out I made a little girl cry I'll loose my job for sure."

"I-I," she hiccups. "I thought you like making people cry."

"**Grown** up people, specifically men; but that is besides the point." She starts to laugh even harder.

"You were crying too, don't try to be low with it I saw you." She points out.

"Did not, you can't even see out of your swollen eyes."

"But I can smell just fine, and I smell **bullshit**."

"Then you should probably close your legs."

"Why don't you do a breath check, pretty sure it's you."

"Is not."

"Is too."

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

"Is NOT!"

"Is NOT!"

"Is too-_Don't you have a letter to read?"_

"Oh!" She exclaims as if suddenly remembering. Stuffing her hand down her shirt she pulls out a wrinkled sheet of paper.

"Aren't you a little too young to be doing that yet?" Ivan asks while placing her in her chair. She choices to ignore that comment.

"This letter came a far way, so don't blame me on its condition."

Making sure they are both comfortable, Ivan waves his hand telling her to continue.

She opens her mouth and begins.

* * *

_Dear Liana, _

_You have such a unique name, I have never met someone named Liana before. Liana, -can I call you Lili?- I hope we can be friends. I don't have any friends. I apologize if my handwriting is hard to read now, I just started to learn how to write. This is probably the twentieth copy of this letter I have written. The tenth one turned out great, but then my cousin ruined it. After I rewrote it I realized how horrible it sounded so I rewrote it, and then that one sounded horrible too-you get what I am saying right. I am an orphan too, although I don't live in an orphanage; I actually live with my aunt and uncle. I would let you meet them but that would be cruel of me. They have a son too, but you REALLY don't want to meet him. I really want you to be my friend. When I heard they were offering this I just couldn't refuse. And you live all the way in AMERICA! What's it like, is it really sunny all the time, do you have winter or fall, or is it always cloudy and rainy over there as well? What's your favorite color? How is it living in an orphanage, do you have any friends there can you send me pictures! Please write back, I'll be waiting every day._

_From a *hopefully* future friend,_

_ Harry Potter_


End file.
